


He's A Crisis That Doesn't Want To End

by Asymptotical



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Becoming the target of a force ritual after interrupting it, M/M, Mpreg, The Force Did It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 05:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asymptotical/pseuds/Asymptotical
Summary: All it took was a little bit of carelessness and a few assumptions, and suddenly they had a much larger problem to deal with.





	He's A Crisis That Doesn't Want To End

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gammarad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gammarad/gifts).

At some point, random Sith popping up to try to do evil had stopped worrying Zenith. 

Stopped was the wrong word. 

At some point he’d just gotten used to his Jedi being able to dismissively wave a shield into existence to block whatever they were trying to do. 

It was satisfying, watching them fail. It dragged them back to mortality. 

The first time Zenith had really paid attention, when his Jedi was flicking a shield up to send Darth Lachris’s lightning scattering so casually that his lekku barely swayed with the movement, would probably always be one of Zenith’s treasured memories. That, and the look on her face as she realized the little Twi’lek Jedi was more than her match. 

No other victory they had would ever be able to measure up. 

This conflict certainly wouldn’t, he was sure of that. 

He kept his breathing measured as he took out some of the Imperials guarding the area, his shots slamming into the heads of those who thought his Jedi dodging past them to save their captive meant that his back was unguarded. 

Even _without_ Zenith at a vantage point with a rifle, or Nadia flickering into and out of view, they wouldn’t have been a match for someone who could send enemies flying away from him without even twitching. 

Beyond his targets, he could see the captive. His Jedi was staying out of the glowing ritual circle, of course, but the force meant that he could pull the bound man towards him, snap the chains, and then shove him into an empty space that became Nadia and then empty space again in moments. 

The Sith in charge didn’t seem upset about the loss, the addled witch. She laughed uproariously, a high pitched sound that Zenith found annoying even from this distance. She dodged to the other side of the ritual, presumably assuming the Barsen’thor wouldn’t be foolish enough to walk through it to fight her. 

He wasn’t, of course, but he could turn the floor into projectiles so it wasn’t as though he needed to. Zenith could count on his _lekku_ the number of times his Jedi had been _forced_ to pull his lightsaber out to win a fight. 

Zenith tried to line up a shot. Best to take the Sith out quickly, even if she wasn’t really a danger to someone like his Jedi. She deflected his first shot, then sent a bolt of energy towards his Jedi. 

It took on a different color as it passed over the center of the ritual, fading from the normal angry dark purple of darksided energy to a much lighter blue, almost white. It looked more like something a Jedi would toss out than a Sith. 

His Jedi gracefully flicked up a shield, more focused on killing the soldiers who were trying to shoot him than on whatever nonsense the Sith was up to. 

The bolt of energy went right through it through it. 

By the time Zenith realized, his Jedi let out a shriek of pain. The light was surrounding him to the point that he was just a silhouette; his back arched and his feet barely touching the ground as the _ritual redrew itself underneath him_. 

Zenith threw himself down the slope he’d been perched up on, almost idly taking out one of the last guards with a blaster as he ran. 

Nadia had come back out of stealth, hands up and eyes wide as she froze, staring at the Barsen’thor. 

The Sith was ranting. Something about how pleased her master would be to come back to such a worthy vessel. Nadia finally moved and the ranting cut off, but Zenith didn’t look to confirm that the Padawan had killed the Sith. 

He didn’t hesitate when he reached his Jedi, reaching out, wrapping an arm around the man’s waist, and hauling him away from the spot he’d been standing on. 

The Barsen’thor _screamed_. And the light disappeared. 

Zenith stumbled but stayed standing, trying to keep focused on facts. His Jedi was unconscious, but no longer trapped in some Sith ritual. The enemies were dead. Another enemy was heading this way. 

The Padawan was frozen again, wide eyes flitting between the dead Sith and the Jedi and the strange ritual. She was losing control over her powers, the force lashing around her in golden tendrils. 

Zenith adjusted his Jedi in his arms, taking a second to make sure the man was still breathing (accelerated, but at a steady rhythm). 

“Check for any data she has.” He told Nadia. Then he flicked on his comm. “We need evac _yesterday_. The Barsen’thor is down and we’ve got a civilian to extract.” 

Nadia started moving at the orders, thankfully. With luck she’d find something useful. 

“The Jedi’s _what_?!” Cedrax answered, voice high pitched in shock. 

“Down.” 

“Stay put.” Iresso took over the line. “We’ll be there in ten.” 

His Jedi had wanted them to stay unseen, to avoid disrupting a potentially delicate situation, but that wasn’t going to be an option here. He’d complain about the fuss, about how it would affect the other things they needed to do here, but this wasn’t the first time Zenith had gone in on a stealth op and come out guns blazing. 

“Staying put isn’t an option either. The Sith indicated she had backup coming.” 

“Shit. Give us tracking, we’ll try to meet you.” 

“Understood.” 

Zenith hauled the Jedi onto his shoulder, wincing slightly as the smaller man let out a little moan. There was nothing he could do about that. Right now, the goal was to get to the ship as fast as possible. 

He let Nadia pull the civilian to his feet, keeping half an eye on the man just in case he’d turn out to be an enemy after all, then set out. They’d keep up or they wouldn’t. 

About five minutes through the woods he could tell they were being tracked. 

He could hear a speeder. Just one, thankfully, but with Sith around that didn’t mean much. 

They needed to find a defensible position. 

They didn’t have time. The speeder came blazing towards them, slamming through the underbrush as a Sith flipped off of it in a stupidly gymnastic blaze of red. 

Zenith was shooting almost as soon as the Sith appeared. He couldn’t use his rifle like this, not with his Jedi still over his shoulder. He was already tiring from carrying a full grown man, and he couldn’t set his Jedi _down_ or else the Sith might just grab him from the ground and take off. 

It wasn’t exactly the ideal conditions to be fighting a _Sith_, but he’d have to handle it. 

For a moment he hoped the Sith would focus on recapturing the civilian they’d saved. It was ruthless, but they could always save him again once the Barsen’thor was awake. His Jedi wouldn’t be _pleased_ exactly, but he was practical when he needed to be. He’d understand. 

Unfortunately, the Sith barely spared the civilian a glance before fixating on Zenith’s Jedi. 

Nadia flung herself in, a little late to fully distract the enemy, and yelled, “Run!” 

Like hell. Zenith was no stranger to having to leave people behind to save the rest, but this wasn’t a situation where that would _work_. 

They needed to get this guy down _now_. Or at least hold him off until reinforcements arrived. 

It didn’t take long for the Sith to get past Nadia’s guard, sending her flying into a tree with a loud crack. And then he was going for Zenith. Or rather, he was going for Zenith’s cargo. He’d been blocking every shot Zenith got off even with Nadia as a distraction. 

The ship needed to be here _now_. 

Zenith tried to dodge back out of the way, lining up another shot. But the Sith closed the distance too quickly, dodging the blaster bolt with unnatural speed. He didn’t have his lightsaber up, probably not wanting to kill the Jedi, but that wasn’t going to matter if he got his hands on Zenith. 

A blast of lightning came out of nowhere. Slamming into the Sith’s side and sending him flying. 

Zenith spun, looking for the source, only to find the civilian standing there with his hands up. 

Of course. Of course the Sith was using another Sith in whatever ritual it was. That was why they’d been so focused on the Barsen’thor. Every Sith thing seemed to want powerful people and _this_ Sith didn’t seem to fit the bill, so they went for the powerful Jedi who showed up. 

Other than the lightning. Best to assume he was a threat. 

“Look--” the _Sith_ babbled as soon as Zenith raised his gun. “I took Lord Kyrrid out. Right? So we’ll leave him and if you lot could just drop me off somewhere from which I can make my way back to my own master that would be _grand_. Enemy of the enemy, right? Wherein Lord Kyrrid is definitely the enemy and I am honestly quite inconsequential.” 

Zenith’s eyes narrowed and the skinny little Sith started to edge behind a tree, the _coward_. 

“I’m _really_ not a threat right now!” he babbled on. “Not at all! It took me that whole time to build up enough energy to take out Lord Kyrrid and I do not have anything left for round two. You can-- Actually, just leave me here. I’ll-- I’m sure I can get far enough away before he wakes up?” 

“Keep an eye on him,” he told Nadia, who had stumbled to her feet while the Sith was babbling. 

Then he turned, carefully trying not to jostle his Jedi, and put a blaster bolt into the Sith Lord’s skull. 

Like hell he was leaving _that_ one alive. If Nadia hadn’t woken up when she did he’d have put the babbling one down too. Unfortunately, that would lead to problems when the Barsen’thor woken up. The man would want to get _information_, if nothing else, and Zenith would have to explain why that wasn’t possible. 

The ship showed up in the sky above them, further emphasizing the inability to properly dispose of the babbling Sith. 

He’d bring it up later. 

Right now, getting the Jedi into the medbay and setting course for Tython was the most important thing. They sure as anything weren’t stopping to _let the Sith off_ somewhere, not with the Barsen’thor injured. 

Might make a decent solution, that. They could hand him over to the Jedi Order and let them sort it out. Still better to kill him, but out of the options currently at hand it was the one that had the best possibility of proper punishment. 

* * *

They couldn’t find anything wrong with his Jedi at first scan. 

Cedrax had paused halfway through the second scanning, then an odd look came over his face and he rushed out of the room. 

Asking Holiday revealed no answers. Apparently Cedrax had told her to keep quiet while he checked on something with Nadia. 

Considering _Nadia_ was currently interrogating their prisoner with Qyzen standing guard, the only thing that stopped Zenith from storming after the man was not wanting to leave the Jedi alone in the medbay. 

Holiday didn’t count. She couldn’t defend him if something happened. 

By the time Cedrax returned, Zenith was about ready to strangle him. 

“What--” he started, only to be immediately interrupted. 

“Well the good news is that he should be awake soon.” Cedrax dropped bonelessly into a chair, as though _he_ was the one who was stressed out here. “The bad news is that he’s pregnant.” 

Zenith glared at him. “Bullshit.” 

“Oh no, it’s entirely what happened. Apparently some rituals are capable of entirely adjusting someone’s body. It’s not a _Sith_ ritual, thankfully. Not a Jedi one either, but from what our sulking guest says, his master found it in a force neutral area, only for the very dead Sith you left behind to steal both it and the apprentice.” 

Zenith sucked air in through his teeth, needing to hit something. “So he’s pregnant.” 

“Yes.” 

“With that Sith Lord’s kid.” 

“_Well_,” Cedrax drawled, throwing a hand up and giving Zenith a look that probably was intended to impart information, “that _was_ the intention.” 

“But?” 

“But you embraced him in the ritual instead. So congratulations!” 

Zenith froze. 

“This is so exciting!” Holiday thrilled, clapping her holographic hands. 

“Really it’s probably for the best. The Jedi will know how to deal with the force issues, and an impending baby will force _you two_ to deal with your… you know.” 

“Hey, Cedrax. Not the time.” Iresso cut in from the door, cementing his place as the non-Jedi on the ship who annoyed Zenith the least. Still someone to be wary of, considering some things he’d overheard the soldier and his Jedi talking about, but least annoying assuming they had it under control. 

“Is there _ever_ a time?” Cedrax sighed, as though _he _was the one being wronged here. The man shoved himself back up from the seat. “Well, seeing as there’s nothing else to do here. I’ll just go get some _work_ done.” 

Iresso sighed as Cedrax flounced past him, then gave Zenith a nod. “Nadia is calling the Grandmaster. They’ll figure it out. You want company or..?” 

Zenith shook his head. “I want eyes on the prisoner. I’ll keep watch over the Barsen’thor until he wakes up.” 

Iresso paused, looking a little like he wanted to say something, then clearly thought better about it. “Sounds good. Qyzen’s already keeping watch, but can’t hurt to have two eyes on him with the Barsen’thor out. Comm me if you need anything. I’m sure Nadia will be by to make sure everything, you know, force wise is fine.” 

Zenith nodded, and when Iresso saw he didn’t have anything to add the soldier thankfully took his leave. 

Leaving Zenith with his _thoughts_ and an unconscious Jedi. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, watching his Jedi. The man… was not sleeping peacefully. His brow was furrowed and he kept shivering. Zenith was tempted to go grab some blankets off of a proper bed but… if this was a force thing he doubted they would help. 

This was… not in his plans. 

Assuming, and it was a big assumption, that this was both an entirely healthy baby and that the Jedi wouldn’t just do some fancy handwaving and undo the whole situation as soon as they go to Tython... 

It wasn’t as though there were never accidental babies on Balmorra. It happened. They adjusted. 

But those always resulted from _relationships_. Sometimes casual, sometimes something more, but always _something_. 

Not just touching someone at the wrong (right?) time with no prior romantic or sexual contact. 

And even if they had. Even if his Jedi had picked up on the flirting instead of naively smiling right past it, Jedi weren’t supposed to enter relationships. 

There were exceptions. He’d caught a bit of gossip (even Jedi weren’t free of that particular vice) about some Jedi’s wife having to have interviews with Masters for… something or another. It sounded like a pain in the ass. 

It sounded like a loophole he could use. 

His Jedi was incredibly fond of loopholes. 

The half heard conversation had stuck with him for weeks. If anyone would be allowed to bend the rules, it was the Barsen’thor. He’d seen it happen. The Jedi was allowed to travel with who he wanted to where he wanted, to be partial or impartial as he liked, to choose between the code and his own morals and the good of the republic. Sometimes he even made decisions that Zenith was fairly sure weren’t _exactly_ in line with the Jedi code and so far no one had said a word. 

But everything his Jedi did was for a greater good. Not for his own benefit. 

Eventually he’d put it out of his mind. He wasn’t even entirely certain that his Jedi was flirting back on purpose, on the rare occasion it happened. Or that he even _knew_ that Zenith was flirting in the first case. There was no way to approach the situation that seemed appropriate. 

And now the man was _literally_ pregnant with Zenith’s child. 

The Barsen’thor interrupted Zenith’s thoughts by stirring, his eyes flicking open as he let out a sound just quieter than a moan. 

Zenith sat up, eyes glued to him. The Jedi’s eyes went to the ceiling and then to Zenith and he smiled. 

Because of _course_ he was the sort of man who would manage to smile after all that. It made Zenith ache in a way that he was entirely ignoring. 

“Well, that didn’t go well.” The man rubbed at his head, wincing. “I feel like a Dewback sat on me. Did Nadia get out alright too? You’re uninjured?” He paused, clearly searching his memory. “That captive?” 

“The captive was a _Sith_.” Zenith growled, glad to at least briefly have something else. “We have him cuffed. Qyzen and Iresso are keeping guard. When we get to Tython the plan is to hand him over to your Order.” 

His Jedi gave him a brilliant grin. “Oh _good_. He’ll know things then. I’m sure Nadia is briefing them?” 

“She is.” Zenith hesitated, suddenly wishing that Cedrax and his tactlessness had stayed… Or maybe come back for just long enough to break the news and then left again. 

The Jedi raised his hand and flicked a bit of force into existence, golden light running over his own body. Then he stopped, and even though he didn’t react obviously enough that most people could see it, Zenith could see the surprise in his eyes and the way the ends of his lekku twitched. 

He pressed a hand to his stomach, glowing with golden light and looking increasingly alarmed. 

“The Sith were attempting some sort of ritual.” Zenith explained, finally finding the words. “The one we captured said it wasn’t darksided, but I’m reserving judgement until your people can take a look at you.” 

“It feels normal.” His Jedi said, looking… conflicted. Then he sighed. “This is… not ideal.” 

Zenith snorted. That was about as large a possible understatement as he could have come up with, but his Jedi was a master of those. 

Cedrax chose _now_, of all times, to come bursting back in. “Oh good you’re awake. I assume Zenith told you that he knocked you up then?” 

“Cedrax!” Iresso scolded from a distance. Presumably he’d been keeping watch on the hall. If not, then Zenith was going to have some words with him about what he’d been doing not keeping an eye on the prisoner like he’d said he would. 

“It’s important information that may or may not have been imparted!” The human protested. Then he turned back to the Jedi. “Your Grandmaster mentioned something about you being the best able to tell if it’s normal or not. If it’s not you’re to contact them immediately and we’ll take emergency measures.” 

“It’s normal.” His Jedi answered. He shoved himself into a sitting position with his hand still glowing at his abdomen. 

“Good, good. I’ll just leave you two to it then!” 

Cedrax left in a flurry, and Zenith could _hear_ Iresso sighing in annoyance from across the hall. 

His Jedi looked at him with a raised eyebrow, questioning. 

“It was touch based.” Zenith answered awkwardly. “I pulled you out of the ritual once it started recasting itself.” 

“Oh.” His Jedi tilted his head, looking _less_ worried than he had before. “Well, that’s probably best case scenario then.” 

“_Is_ it?” Zenith couldn’t imagine any situation where this was _best_. 

“Assuming the general situation, yes.” His Jedi pulled his feet up to sit cross legged, smiling softly at Zenith. 

His hand still hadn’t moved. Or stopped glowing. 

“There are a lot of old rituals with the Living Force that do things like this. Not usually to this level of bodily reconfiguration, but similar.” He paused, tilting his head. “It’s probably how the blast got through my shields. My own connection to the force would have recognized it as a good thing.” 

“Since when is ‘bodily reconfiguration’ a good thing?” 

“The force doesn’t think like we do. It doesn’t take emotions into account when deciding what is and isn’t good. Especially the living force. It’s all about life and corrupted life. If the spell had been at all twisted then my shields could have stopped it, but something that’s just meant to allow someone to bear a child?” 

Zenith gripped as his knees, then startled when his Jedi reached out to gently take one of his hands. 

For half a second Zenith wondered if his Jedi was going to press his hand to that same area of his abdomen, even though there was surely nothing to feel at this point. 

He was very carefully not thinking about what it would be like when there _was_ something to feel there, if this was going to be a normal baby. 

At least he had a very good excuse to broach the ‘ever thought about breaking tradition’ conversation. Maybe bring up that gossip he’d heard. 

His Jedi just held his hand, thumb gently rubbing circles into the side of it until Zenith looked up and met his eyes. 

“It’ll be fine.” He said softly. “We’ll work it out.” 

“I’m not the one who should be getting comforted here.” Zenith grumbled. He almost pulled his hand back on instinct, but he knew if he did the Jedi would let it go immediately and he… didn’t want that. They didn’t touch much, usually. 

His Jedi smiled, “I am very used to the force gifting me with new trials. I’ll adjust. I always do.” 

“You shouldn’t _have_ to.” 

“The force often works in mysterious ways.” His Jedi’s smile widened. “Sometimes bullshit ways. But usually mysterious. I find it’s better not to fuss about the ones that aren’t overall bad.” 

“You’re really fine with this?” 

If he was… and if the Grandmaster seemed to think his Jedi was the best source of how safe the thing was… Then this was going to be a reality in their future. 

He was going to need to make arrangements on Balmorra. Regardless of what the Jedi Order decided about what they would allow, they were going to be coparenting. If there was any chance of the Jedi officially approving a relationship, they probably would do so for the Barsen’thor. Even if they didn’t approve of _Zenith_. 

Assuming his Jedi even wanted that. 

And if he didn’t that was fine. Zenith could deal with that. He knew some Jedi were the types to dump their kids somewhere that they didn’t have to think about them, but _his_ was so painfully sentimental that he wasn’t sure that was even possible. If the rest of the order had eyes, they wouldn’t even risk asking it of him. Someone as stubborn as his Jedi probably wasn’t a good target for that sort of ultimatum. He had enough arguments with them as it was, and certainly seemed… displeased about a lot of things. 

And if they _did_ then-- 

“Fine might be the wrong word.” His Jedi mused, squeezing Zenith’s hand and interrupting his thoughts. “But I’d much rather focus on dealing with it in the future than stressing about how it came to be.” 

“That’s… wise.” Zenith admitted, begrudgingly. It wasn’t something he was good at, which his Jedi knew full well. 

“Mhm,” his Jedi hummed. “Plus, it’ll make a lot easier of a way to… broach a certain subject. More things weighted on my side. They won’t want to give me an ultimatum, not now. That’ll help.” 

His Jedi had the sort of calculated look that Zenith loved. The one that meant other people were going to be scrambling over something that may or may not be breaking rules. He smirked. “We’re going to have to make some plans.” 

“Oh?” 

“If we’re having a kid together, yeah. I don’t know how…” He forced the words out. “I don’t know how exactly Jedi deal with _relationships_, especially in this sort of situation, but--” He stuttered to a stop as his Jedi gave him a bright smile, eyes all but sparkling. And suddenly he had to wonder if _he_ was the one who hadn’t been picking up on some hints. 

And also what ‘certain subject' his Jedi had just been talking about, because if it was the one he suddenly thought it might be… 

There had _definitely_ been flirting that Zenith hadn't picked up on, for the Jedi to go there. 

Good. 


End file.
